Back Home
by ARCDiscover
Summary: (CAT:TWS Spoiler:) After visiting the museum Bucky/James/The Winter Soldier doesn't really have somewhere to go to. Mentions of Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, The Triskelion Incident, The Red Room. Rated T because language.


**AN: This is unbeta'd, so probably very poor english. Please, if you find mistakes, CORRECT ME. It feels very shameful to have a story with mistakes. While writing this I listened to 'Way Back Home' by the Bag Raiders repeatadly so I'm just giving you the short nod to this song. This takes place instantly after where the end-end credits end. A bit of spoilery for the movie.**

Disclaimer: Sadly, none of this belongs to me. Because that would mean I wouldn't have to write fanfiction and just make a damn spin-off movie.

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It was dark and he was cold, but it was a good cold and the rain poured down over Washington DC and the museum, he knew because he felt it on his neck where his jacket didn't cover everything. It almost reminded him of a time long ago, a place far away. He didn't knew were the place was he just knew by the tiny hole in his gut that started to grow bigger when he started to think about it, that it must be gone. Home? Yeah, once it had been home to him or at least an equivalent. It was hard to explain, this feeling. Because he almost had the feeling his feeling of home was double and bound to two different people and two different personalities of his own. He didn't notice the rain with his eyes, he was seeing different things, following different people through the crowd.

_"James." _

A voice he knew somehow. Female and he started to think he was drifting off to going crazy. Nobody was calling him here. But still he somehow felt like he was chasing somebody or he was chased by somebody and he tried to not look around, not be obvious, not let anybody know, he was going crazy. There were flashes of colors and the voice again and then he remembered a fight that happened just days ago and how he felt betrayed by his arm when it suddenly wouldn't work. He suddenly stood still. "Hey!" a man shouted who almost bumped into him. Why wouldn't his arm work? He held up his left arm and looked at it. He chose to wear a glove so nobody could see the metal under the cloth but still, if everything was silent you could hear the metal working when he moved the arm but not here. It was too loud outside. He started walking again after he got the feeling that he had seen someone. He started jogging and looking for the flash of color he thought he had seen but there was none. Just his own imagination. At least he knew his name now, something to start with. James Buchanan Barnes – a soldier, sniper and good friend to Captain America. But he was dead now, wasn't he? Why had he the feeling he was dead? Oh right. He died 70 years ago. No… he survived 70 years in kryostase. Kryostase – why did it trigger something? He did live now, didn't he? That meant he has to survive 70 ears and still being so young. Cold. Snow. Snowflakes? No here weren't snowflakes.

"Come on, let me show your newest trainees or should I say victims? I don't care. Train them and pick who you think is good enough to be trained well."

"Who should I pick?" The Winter Soldier wasn't used to orders that weren't spoken directly anymore. Almost 50 years of dominant authority with no need for someone who speaks up did that to him. He was unsure of what to think about picking some of the targets.

"The one you think could be the best one day." This man, he knew his name. And also the name of the one standing beside him and James knew it was a memory but as his memory tried to take a look at the targets, his vision blurred and he was took back to today, breathing heavily. He then remembered, though not fully, that the picking of the trainee brought him a few months, maybe a year of almost free will.

He went into a bar because he couldn't stand walking in the streets anymore. He was also soaked wet which wasn't the best thing, he guessed. He sat down in a corner and the bar was full so he just hoped it would take time until the staff would ask if he wanted a drink. It was loud but he was blocking it out. He didn't care about whatever the men were ranting about, if it was sports or politics or the war – there was no world war 2 today, wasn't it? ~No, but another one.~ He reminded himself. He kind of started that, not on purpose but still.

"I hope they all will get into jail."

"Murderess."

"What a bitch I mean does she really think the world needs her? Yeah, we probably need Iron Man – he can build another suit, Hulk because he just doesn't get into political things and maybe Captain America but nuh uh. Not her. Who can tell if she suddenly changes her mind?"

"I wanna know how she got that code name."

"You can look that up, it's pretty easy, shown on the files in the internet but they can't bring it on the news because it's… dreadful?"

Did they mistake him for a girl because of his long hair? He stood up to get a better view on the screen. He couldn't hear what the reporter was talking because the others stopped the sound but he could see that it was more of a documentary in six parts. About the Avengers, SHIELD, HYDRA and what the world should do with them. There was a picture. ~Home.~ Something inside of him thought.

James nodded, Bucky would have frowned inside.

"Natalia." He muttered under his breath. Someone turned around and looked at him, mustered him.

"Yeah. You know they report about her now almost twice a day. And uh, yeah she is beautiful but you'd be better a few blocks farther from here. There are pretty girls, even cheaper and they don't have a crazy codename."

The Winter Soldier looked him deep into the eye and he could feel his rage drifting upwards. Nobody, nobody ever should dare to talk about her that way. But the Winter Soldier calmed down before he had thrown the man out of the window by his throat. Why was James so angry? He looked at the screen again. Who was she? And why did she trigger something?

He left and he was pretty sure he left some of them staring after him. It was still raining and he was heading home. ~I don't know so much. I know the attack of the Triskelion, I know these people who wanted to use are now dead … I know this man. I don't know why.~

"I'm with you 'til the end of the line."

And then he gave up fighting and even defending himself, almost like he wanted to die but he didn't want to. He wanted Bucky – who ever that was – to hurt. And it worked, didn't it? James saved him from drowning.

And then he remembered again: He knew this man, because he just looked him up in the museum. His name was Steve Rogers and he was Captain America. Bucky was his best friend. Bucky protected him when he was young. Steve saved him. Bucky died.

And the Winter Soldier woke up in the Red Room.

He knew, there had to be a time in between but he wasn't sure if he wanted to know that, because it was just killing murdering and being a machine. James didn't know the reason, but HYDRA gave him to the Red Room, maybe just to train the recruits. Hydra wasn't aware, that the Red Room had gone rogue and wanted those recruits for themselves later. James never lived that long without brainwashing before and after that, because the Red Room considered it easier when he remembered his trainees and hadn't to get introduced to them and their weaknesses after every wipe-clear. There was also something else and it had to do with Natalia.

He arrived at his apartment and locked the door behind him.

As he stood there a familiar thought appeared on his mind. ~I'm just some lost soldier without a home.~ he walked around in his apartement, grabbed a glass and pured himself some water. This wasn't his apartment, nor was it his home. Her picture came across his mind. _"James."_

~I had a home once and she was the one who gave it to me.~


End file.
